glitch
/ feed refreshes /
your smile → static, pixels tearing.
i almost hit send but it just—
sits. heavy. unsent.
rotting in drafts like bones in the wrong grave.
your eyes = neon signs dying at 2:47am,
flicker / off / on / off—
my thumb hovers, stupid thumb,
never taps.
never taps.
you’re steam i can’t hold,
heat sliding through my fists.
so i drink nothing.
choke on silence.
burn my tongue on the ghost of maybe.
there’s laughter somewhere,
buried in unopened threads,
like a party i was never invited to.
maybe you’re the piece missing.
maybe i’m just the piece with teeth.
wrong edge. wrong box.
nights rot into pixels.
i write. delete. write. delete.
keys sticking, brain lagging,
backspace louder than confession.
what if the glitch isn’t the app,
isn’t the feed—
what if the glitch is the meat machine typing this.
what if the glitch is me.